Forever Love
by gracelove
Summary: Brock and BJ are done - where does this leave him and Reba? R&R please - my first fanfic! Its finished - hope you like the ending!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Barbara Jean looked once more around her home. Henry was already in the car, and now she just had to say goodbye to her best friend, Reba.

Reba was upstairs asleep, since it was getting late. The house was unnaturally quiet, and she made sure to tiptoe the way up to Rebas room.

"Reba?" she whispered, poking her head in.

She was asleep on her bed, fully dressed, not under the covers. Barbara Jean tried to wake her.

"Reba? Reba, I'm leaving now – I'm going to the airport to get to LA!"

"Don't go…stay…"  
"I can't, I –''

"Brock…stay…"

It took Barbara Jean a minute to process that Reba was still asleep. She stifled a giggle. "Reba, wake up!" she said rather loudly, shaking her by the elbow.

Reba jerked up, looking around. "Barbara Jean, you idiot, what are you doing?"  
"Sorry!" Barbara Jean put a finger to her lips. "I'm leaving for LA, I had to say goodbye!"  
Reba relaxed, and sadly smiled. "I…I'll miss you, Barbara Jean."

In a flash Barbara Jean was hugging her tight. "I'll miss you, too, Reba!" she sniffed. Reba tried to hug back, but this was made difficult since Barbara Jeans arms were pinning her arms to her waist. She finally held her at arms length. "What were you dreaming about?"  
"I…sorry I'm a little groggy, I can't remember," Reba lied. She could remember, but it was still strange to her. What was _he_ doing back in her head?

"Oh…because you were trying to talk to Brock. Want me to get him?" Barbara Jean asked helpfully.

"NO! No, don't, uh, I'll see him tomorrow and tell him...whatever it was I said," Reba promised, crossing her fingers behind her back.

"Oh, you told him not to go," Barbara Jean shrugged, oblivious to what this meant. "I'll miss you, Reba. See you soon, goodbye!"

A MONTH AND A HALF LATER

It was around eight in the morning. Reba sipped her coffee, smiling, as she saw she had an email from Barbara Jean. She'd never admit it, but she had missed her friend. She clicked on the email, impatient to see how BJ had been since the divorce.

_Reba,_

_I MISS YOU SO MUCH! So does Henry – everyday he asks if we'll see "Weeba". Guess you know he sends his love!_

_How have you been? Gotten any houses sold? I'm doing pretty well; I seem to be moving on just fine. Every time I start to feel a little lonely for anyone I just think of you getting over Brock so well (even though you talk about him in your sleep). If I were there I'd give you a huge hug…even though you'd push me off and yell at me with that accent of yours. _

_I have to get ready for another date with that film producer – Reba, they make the best boyfriends; you should come up and see for yourself!_

Update me with all the family life – lots of love

_BJ_

Reba smiled as she finished the letter. She had received so many from Barbara Jean in the last few days but never got tired of them.

Only one part of the letter caused a crease in her forehead. _"…I just think of you getting over Brock so well…" _She wasn't sure why it bugged her so much. Maybe it was because she hadn't been alone and Barbara Jean was…but that couldn't be it. Barbara Jean had mentioned that she had dates.

So why _did_ it bug her?

She shook her head, closing out of her email and planning to respond later. Turning, she screamed as she noticed Brock, his head next to hers, apparently having read over her shoulder.

"BROCK, you mo-ron!" She yelled pushing him into the kitchen island. To her astonishment and anger, she realized Brock had started laughing.  
"What is so funny – y'almost gave me a heart attack!" She was still clutching her chest as she got up and hurried to pour herself more coffee.

"I'm sorry, Reba, you're just…" but he couldn't control himself and started laughing again. Reba glared, thumbing the side of her coffee mug.

"'Just so _what'?_ Brock – your head couldn't have been closer if we were tied together! Why were you reading my emails anyway? Oh, get a grip!"

Finally Brock, clutching the island for support said, "I'm sorry, Reba, it was the look on your face that made me laugh. It's hilarious when you see your surprised face up close." He started to laugh again, but caught sight of Reba glaring. That didn't help – he knew she was mad, but for some reason, whenever she was mad she just looked so cute, and he smiled wider.

"Brock, _you are and idiot_. Now why were you reading over my shoulder, it's rude!" she snapped.

"Well I noticed the letter was from BJ and I wanted to see how she was. I was almost done when you turned around and screamed in my face."

Reba scowled. "It's still rude. I didn't hear you come in, what'd you do, spend the night here?"

"No, I just came in the back door. You were really into your email – can I finish reading it?"  
"I already closed out of it, I'll just tell you what she said. She said she misses me, has a date, and lots of love," Reba said as she sat to open up the morning paper.

"That's not the part I'm interested in,"

"Oh?" Reba asked, pretending to read the front page, and her heart beating fast. If she'd gotten to the part about BJ being lonely she'd have to comfort him, and comforting him may mean hugging him, hugging him meaning never letting go…

"No, I was more interested in the fact that you dream about me."  
Brock noticed Reba go as red her hair. She'd forgotten about that part.

"…Oh. That."

"Well? What was it about?"

"I was having a nightmare." She lied.

"And talked about me?" Brock grinned. It was so much fun embarrassing Reba. It was what came after he'd have to run away from.

"Yeah, sure. Something about 'AHH ITS BROCK RUN FOR THE HILLS!'" She yelled.

"Mom?" Cheyenne and Van had come in, both puffy-eyed and in their pajamas. "You dream about Dad?"

"NO!" Reba yelled over her shoulder.

"Whoa, that's a pretty suspicious 'no', Mrs. H…" Van said, his eyes flickering between his in-laws. "What's the matter, a little overly-defensive?

"NO!" Reba yelled again, getting up and storming out.

"Dad? What was all that about?" Cheyenne asked her father, pouring her and Van each a cup of coffee.

Brock, who was looking confused, murmured, "That's what I'm trying to figure out. Reba!" He followed her as she trumped up the stairs.

"Go home, Brock, even you can find the way there!" she yelled, but he had caught up with her and was holding her stiffly in place. Goosebumps erupted up her arm, not going unnoticed by Brock. "Let me go!" she squirmed, but he only held her arm tighter.

"What's the big deal – so we had a misunderstanding, just what was the nightmare about?"

Reba scowled. Why did he care? Why did he even have to be around anymore? Why hadn't he followed Barbara Jean to LA and continued his problems there instead?

"It was nothing Brock, I can't remember it, it was awhile ago," she lied again. She could remember it clearly – in fact, she hadn't stopped dreaming it. Every minute she was asleep she had it.

Brock wasn't fooled. Now he was involved and curious. "I think you remember it," he said, giving her that beautiful, all-knowing smile that he knew she could not resist. He could tell by the way that she let go of her breath than caught in quick enough to say:

"Back off, Brock, can't you know when you've lost?" But Brock just continued to smile and raised an eyebrow.

It was too much for Reba to stand. He wasn't going to give way this time.

"Fine!" she huffed, and he let go of her arm as she folded them. "I dreamed that we were married again," she avoided his eyes, looking at her arms.

Brocks heart skipped a beat. He swallowed, then pressed, "And?"

Reba sighed, her nose adorably twitching, like she always did when she was uncomfortable. "And…you stayed that time. I woke up and thought you were right there, but…you weren't."

This was more than Brock had expected. He could see Reba blinking furiously, her lips pursing in a cry of shame, and wished he hadn't asked.

"Sorry…" he whispered.

She shook her head and turned to keep walking up the stairs. Brock stayed put, wondering what to do. Making a swift decision he continued to follow her.

The bedroom door had not closed all the way, and he came in unnoticed. She was sitting with her back to him on the bed, her head in her hand.

She had no clue he was there – he was always there to her, he was always in her mind, smiling at her…

"No…" she was muttering. "Stop it…get out of my head, Brock…please get out of my head…" he heard a sniffle, and could, in his mind, see her blue eyes filling up with tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Whoa, Mr. H, you okay?" Van asked as Brock walked into the kitchen. He hadn't felt his face going so pale. It had been a long time since he'd seen Reba break down like that.

"What?" he said, jerking his head up.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Cheyenne asked. She was making an egg for Elizabeth.

"Hey, Van, c'mere." Brock pulled Van into the living room. "Listen, Van I need you to do something that may be a little difficult, uh…how do I say this…" he had one hand on Van's shoulder, the other cupped beneath his own chin. "Okay, Van," he looked his son-in-law in the eye. "Reba is upstairs, I think she might start to cry…and, without asking any questions, can you…?"

When Van walked in the room, Reba was still sitting on her bed, shaking.

"Mrs. H?" Van moved to her and sat beside her. She jumped a little, trying to wipe her eyes. "Van…I…"

"Shh, let's just…hug." He put his arms around her and allowed Reba to bury her face in his chest, sobbing.

From the door, Brock smiled as he shut the door. A strong part of him was proud of what Van had done for Reba…another wanted to take Vans place, feel the empty hole in his chest be filled by Rebas sweet tears, at the same time help her. But he'd hurt her, and didn't deserve to make her happy again.

He decided he'd better fill Cheyenne in and made his way back into the kitchen. She was still trying to make the eggs edible.

"Cheyenne?"  
"Yeah, Da- OW!" Cheyenne sucked on a finger she had set on an eggshell.

"Oh, sorry, sweetie- look, Van is comforting your mom right now, she had a really bad…morning." He settled for.

"Oh, that's sweet, okay, I'll leave them alone. But can I ask what's wrong with Mom?" She asked.

"Um…no, she…wouldn't tell me." Brock lied.

"Okay, that's underst- Hey!" Cheyenne turned and frowned at her father. "That's _my_ husband, why can't _you_ comfort Mom?"

Brock sighed, shaking his head. "You'll understand when you're older."

Cheyenne was left to burn her eggs as her father left.

Reba did not know or care how Van knew she'd needed someone to hold her right then. It felt nice, but not like Brock. Van couldn't hold her much longer, and the pain would return.

Her tears were cried out. Apparently she couldn't cry for long periods of a time. She sat up, wiping off Vans shirt and said, "That's enough Van, thank you."

To her astonishment, his chin was trembling. "Van?" she asked, concernedly.

"Wha-?" he jumped. "Oh, its just.." he looked away, still trembling. "Never…see you…you know…it's just so…so…"  
Reba put her arms around him and he sobbed into her shoulder. "Van I'm sorry you had to see that, but thanks for being here anyway."

Once he had calmed down, they both trudged back downstairs to find Cheyenne, who had woken up Elizabeth and was attempting to force down some eggs with her.

"Hey Mom, hey Van, doin' okay?"

They both looked down at her with bloodshot eyes and said in unison, "Great." Once Rebas back was turned Van mouthed "No!" Cheyenne nodded and continued to gnaw at the eggs.

"Mom, I give up – can you do something with these?" she held up her fork to her mother.

Reba stared at the stiff yoke. "Do we know someone with a dog?"

Cheyenne groaned. "Mom, I have burned at least three eggs, help me or Elizabeth will starve!"  
"Okay, fine, I'll make some! Pshh, ya big baby!" Reba leaned to turn on the oven, her hand resting on a burner. Immediately, she leapt back, yelling "Cheyenne, you forgot to turn off the burner!"

"Oh! Sorry, Mom!" Cheyenne hurried to her mom, who was wringing her hand, and grabbed it. "Here, let me kiss it." She planted a long kiss on the palm of Rebas. "There, all better?"

Rolling her eyes, Reba said, "Yes, thank you. Now go apologize to Van, you cheated on him with my hand."

Later Reba found herself alone. Cheyenne, Van and Elizabeth had went to lunch with an old friend, Kyra was still at a sleepover and wouldn't be back until after band practice, Jake playing with some friends across town.

Usually Reba liked to be alone. It was a way for her to catch up with her thoughts, but right now the last thing she wanted was to think. It sounded downright dangerous after the early morning Brock meltdown.

But the thoughts popped one after the other in her head. What was she feeling for him? How long had she felt that way? Mostly she kept any feeling other than their friends-hate relationship out of her head, but it happened every time they were accidentally too close; they'd end up comforting each other, offering advice, just like it had been before.

She tried shaking her head, as though trying to rid herself of a fly, but she couldn't deny the spark, no, the power that erupted between them when their skin brushed against each other. She couldn't stop her eyes sparkling with need when she saw him. It had always been like that, even when Barbara Jean had been around – just another sign that Reba had kept her promise to always like Barbara Jean. If she hadn't, she would've tried, and succeeded, at keeping her away.

Or had she done it so that Brock would be there..?

Reba shook her head again, and again it failed to help.

Three doors down, Brock was trying to distract himself from picking up the phone to check on Reba. It worried her when he'd leave her, even if she had the biggest smile on her face. He couldn't stop worrying about her.

When he'd married Barbara Jean, he'd been in a depressed-mid-life-crisis. He hadn't been himself, and even if being with Barbara Jean had been good, he'd never been able to forget Reba. Barbara Jean had always looked made up, and always reminded Brock that would see her she would look much more made up – but not the natural Reba. But at least it was proof that she still cared what he Reba didn't. But he didn't want her to – he loved walking in on her when her hair was a haystack and she was dressed in anything baggy or faded. She would jump, and blush that beautiful blush that tickled her cheeks and matched her hair. At least it showed she cared what he thought, even if she thought the wrong thing.

Brock couldn't take it anymore. He reached for the phone, but paused. She could hang up.

But he didn't want to barge in on her if she was still crying…he had to. He had to show her he cared, at least enough to see if she was okay. Or would Reba think he was tactless..?

He had to find out before he thought too much.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

"So what was going on with Mom this morning?" Cheyenne asked as they walked out of the restaurant. They'd had a lovely time showing off Elizabeth, but it was time to talk about Reba.

"I actually…honestly don't know," Van admitted, opening the door for Cheyenne to strap in Elizabeth. "Your dad just asked me to go comfort her…it was strange, I'd never seen her cry before. At least not that hard."

Cheyenne was deep in thought as Van started up their car and pulled away from parking space. Van noticed the rare silence, but didn't enjoy it as much as he thought he would.

He leaned over and touched her cheek. "Cheyenne, your mom doesn't cry a lot – maybe it was a small thing that triggered a lot of held-back tears."

Cheyenne tried to believe it, but shook her head. "No, I don't think so…did you see the way she and dad were looking at each other?"

"You can tell he still really likes her," Van agreed, nodding. "Too bad she can't stand him." He and Cheyenne looked sadly at each other and away again. Each paused, considering the possibility that this wasn't true, that maybe Reba still felt a small - a very, very small…

No, it couldn't be. Cheyenne and Van sighed inwardly. If it could've been, they wouldn't be divorced.

"Van…" Cheyenne stared at her hands, suddenly struck by a terrifying thought.

"Yeah?"

She bit her lip. She'd never thought much about this before. "It's just…promise me you won't do what Dad did to Mom…to me," she said nervously.

"Oh, baby!" Van pulled the car over immediately, dumbstruck. "Do you really think I'd do that? Sweetie, I love you – that won't change!"  
"Really? I mean…I know it's true, and I love you so much, believe me, I do! But…do you think we really would have married if it weren't for Elizabeth?"  
"No – we might not have. So aren't you glad we did? Just think of this life we have – sure, it's hard at times, but it's together!" he stroked her cheek again, trying to catch her eye.

She smiled back at him. "Yes, I am glad. And I do love you – so much." Van leaned forward and kissed her. He really did love her, always had. He'd always been lucky, but she was his luckiest find yet.

Brock tried to control his nerves as he knocked on the door, and gripped them firmly as he waited for someone to open it.

To his surprise, Reba answered the door. She looked away when she saw him, that lovely blush rising in place. "Hi.," she said shortly.

"Hi…may I come in?" Reba nodded and stepped back, allowing him inside, before shutting the door.

Brock took a deep breath. "Look, Reba, I know your mad, but –"

"I'm not mad."

"Yeah well – you aren't?" he stared deep into the eyes that were still turned away.  
Reba shook her head and started for the kitchen. Brock followed. Once inside, Reba began finishing the dishes and Brock continued, "Well, I still want to apologize anyway – I shouldn't have pried."

Reba shrugged. "Just goes to show that you learn things you don't want to if you stick your nose in." She smiled grimly.

Brock raised his eyebrows. "I didn't say I didn't want to know."

Sighing, Reba looked him straight in the eye for the first time since he'd come in. It wasn't wise; she felt her breathing stop again, and secretly he noticed as well. But she inwardly shook and said, "Brock, did you just come here to apologize?'

"Yes and…" Brock's eyes scanned the kitchen, looking for an excuse. "To, uh, see if you'd started lunch yet."

"I'm not hungry – what's it to you?" Reba snapped.

"Oh, mind if I eat here ? I haven't gotten used to grocery stores yet," he said quickly. Reba was about to protest when she stopped herself. She may as well let someone finish off the bread.

"Okay, then you have to leave." She ordered. "Look, sit down, I'll make something for you – sandwich with lettuce and tomato and cheese?" she recited. She hoped he hadn't noticed that she'd never forgotten his favorite thing for the middle of the day.

He had, but waited until he'd said, "Yes," and she'd turned around before he smiled. "Are you sure you're okay with making me lunch, Reba?"

"Would you like me not to?" she paused at the refrigerator.

"No! No, go ahead. Thanks. Say, could you bring me a beer, too?"

As Reba set down the cold glass bottle, he was surprised at the label. "Did you know I'd be here or something?"

"What's that supposed to mean – you're always here," Reba rolled her eyes.

"No, it's just… I thought that you didn't like this kind. It's always been my favorite."

"Van likes it." It wasn't true; Reba had remembered that Brock did. She could never remember putting it on her grocery list, but it always ended up at the top, then in her refrigerator.

"Oh, I get it," he shrugged and swallowed the lie.

Reba sat down with him as he ate his sandwich; she hadn't finished reading her paper yet, and it seemed like a way to pass the time so she wouldn't stare at Brock. She blinked twice as she stared at the headlines.

"Wow, Brock! Did you hear about this – they found that little girl! The one that was missing in Oregon. Wow, that's great." She smiled warmly as she read the article.

"Oh that's good – let me read." Brock snatched at the paper, but Reba held it stiffly.

"Wait your turn, selfish, I had it first!" she snapped.

"But…but…I'm eating, I should read the paper!" He made another snatch, and Reba pulled it back. Both looked horrorstruck as their tugs caused a long slice down the front. Each now held half of the news.

Reba gaped, furious at Brock. "Brock, you butthead! You dang-blasted tore my newspaper!"

"You…you started it!" he protested.

"I started it? I STARTED IT…!?" In a fit of temper, Reba crumpled up her half of the news and threw it in Brocks face.

If she thought she couldn't get angrier, she was wrong. As the crumple hit Brock in the face and he stared back at her, he broke out into laughter.

Lividly she stood, fists on the table, leaning over and trying to frighten him out of his smile. To her horror he merely laughed harder than before.

"What is wrong with you? I throw paper at you, you laugh – I scream in your face, you laugh! What is it about me getting angry that all of a sudden makes you laugh?"

Brock calmed enough to say, "That's just the thing – it's funny to me, I don't know why! I know I should be terrified…I mean, I could get hurt…it's just…" he hid his face in the table, taken over by silent giggles.

Reba couldn't yell. For once she was speechless. Funny? "Why?" she spat as he finally controlled himself.

He tossed his hand in the air, shaking his head, bemused. "Okay, Reba, I think I understand why…just, don't get madder, okay? Or I may just…" he glanced again at her scowl and quickly looked away, smiling. "Okay, okay…when you're mad, all of a sudden it's _cute._ There, its cute when you're mad."

Reba tried to process this. She couldn't find anything cute about the situation, least of all funny. "Brock," she paused, then decided, "You are such a mo-ron!"

Brock threw his hand in the air again. "I know. And you are _very_ cute."

"I AM NOT CUTE!" she yelled, just as Van and Cheyenne came in with a sleeping Elizabeth.

"Dad? You called Mom _cute_?" Cheyenne snorted, handing off the child to her husband.

"Wow, Mr. H…what'd you do this time?" Van whispered, passing them on his way to the living room.

Brock stood, trying to keep Reba from blowing. "Look, all I'm saying is that it has a different effect on me after all these years we've been…"

Cheyenne was now listening intently. "Been what?"

"…Friends." Brock decided. "Okay, look – Reba, sorry if I upset you, you wanted the truth, you know."

Reba tossed her hair behind her head. It had gotten in her way while yelling. Folding her arms across her chest, she said, "Never. Call _me_. Cute. Again."

This seemed almost an oxymoron to Brock. With her lips pursed and eyes flickering, lovely hair swishing, it was hard to call her anything less. But he merely said, "If that's how you want it."  
"Okay," Cheyenne stepped between them, holding her hands up and chuckling. "I'm interested – I can't believe that you guys are _flirting_ again!"  
That left a stone silence. Rebas mouth fell open, much to Brocks unattended delight. She had the loveliest mouth – her upper lip was only about half as thick as her bottom lip, but the color was so rich and sweet that he wanted to feel them against his skin again.

"Cheyenne, you have said some dumb things in your short life but none this utterly ridiculous! Flirt, Brock and meIt's just…just…!"

"Spicy and romantic!" Cheyenne giggled.

"Yes! Spicy and – no!" Reba turned away, her hands falling to her thighs.

"Mom, cool it, you don't have to get all defensive!" Cheyenne winked at her father before leaving them alone.

Brock muttered, "Boy! Has she got the wrong end of the stick – we were _not_ flirting!" Even if he did feel a bit…bubbly…around Reba, it wasn't love, just a crush…right?

"I'm glad to see you agree with me," Reba said over her shoulder. "Unfortunately I think Cheyenne wants to feel smart for once in her life…she needs a new hobby, this ones not working for me." She turned and smiled at Brock. "So, now if I ever want to scare you again I need a way to do it. What's your latest phobia?"

Brock started to laugh before he realized that Reba was serious. Turning it into a cough he said, "Well…I'll have to get back to you on that one."

"I'll hold you to it!" Reba promised as he left out the back door. But as it slammed, she felt a pang somewhere that she hadn't felt anything for a long time.

The truth was, when Brock had called her cute, it had twiddled her happy-dial all the way up. When Cheyenne accused them of flirting and Brock denied it, she was disappointed. What was it about her reflexes that made her oppose everything Brock said?

"Cheyenne," she said, walking down to the living room. "I think I'm bipolar!"

Cheyenne, who was sitting next to Van reading a magazine, snorted as she said, "And they call _me_ slow!"

Reba shook her head, seating herself in the armchair. "No, I think I'm bipolar because part of me opposes everything Brock says…and another part likes it." She wasn't sure if she should be telling her boy-crazy daughter this, but she was the nearest source of femininity.

Cheyenne exchanged a "Hum..!" look with Van, who asked, "So you have a crush on him?"

Reba stared him down. He hid behind a pillow. "NO! I don't know what I mean! Cheyenne, tell me what it is."  
"Oh, Mom, I don't know if I'm cut out to decide that," Cheyenne shook her head quickly.

"No, look – Cheyenne, nothing you say will offend me, just tell me what you think."  
Cheyenne considered for a minute, pulling down the corners of her mouth in thought. "I agree with Van, you have a crush!"

"THAT'S NOT -!" Reba began, standing, but Van whispered, "Shh! There is a child asleep!"

"Sorry..!" Reba sat back down in a huff. "Be serious, Cheyenne, I'm desperate, this is driving me crazy!"  
"Mom, I honestly think you do! And I think he knows!" Cheyenne shrugged, nodding.

"That's impossible – how could everyone else know and not me, there my feelings, remember?"  
"That's the way it usually works, Mrs. H," Van said, leaning on his knees. "I didn't know I liked Cheyenne until my then-girlfriend dumped me for checking her out."

"And then you had a baby." Reba reminded him.

"Yeah, that too."  
Reba rolled her eyes. "Cheyenne, I don't know, it's not a crush, it just can't be."  
"Well why don't you talk to him about it – this could lead somewhere," Cheyenne suggested.

"BOW-chicka-WOW-wow…" Van coughed into his fist. She slapped him behind the head and Reba stood, ready to pummel him.

"I didn't mean that!" Cheyenne blushed.

"Well what did you mean by that?" Reba put her hands on her hips.

Cheyenne opened her mouth, then shut it, exchanging a confused look with Van. "I…I…" she took one more look at her mothers expectant face, gave a small laugh and hurried around the back of the couch upstairs, saying, "I forgot to change Elizabeth…!"

Van decided to follow. "I'll help you with that, honey..!"

Reba was left to ponder and pout. She was split in two again – there was no denying that Cheyenne had inherited the talent to battle her senses as much as Brock.

How long had she felt this disturbance? She'd felt something like it when she'd first fallen for Brock, years and years ago, but thought it had come to an end after the divorce.

Had her lov…no. She wouldn't even think the word. Not for Brock. He'd left her, hurt her. He'd betrayed her trust when she loved him and needed him so desperately. She couldn't give him power like that over her again. After all, that was why she'd built a wall around herself; she didn't want to get hurt.

But this couldn't stay locked up inside – Cheyenne was right, and somehow she would have to talk to Brock about it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four Chapter Four

"Hey Dad, its Cheyenne!"

"Oh, hey honey, what's up?"  
"Look, Mom has a headache, Van has to go to work, and I have to take Elizabeth to daycare before school. Is there anyway you could take Jake? Kyra already left."

"Sure, I'll be right over."

After dropping off his son, Brock decided to stop by to check on Reba. He knew that when she got headaches, she got _bad_ headaches.

"Reba?" he called as he stepped in the door. He heard a muffled, "Go AWAY, Brock!"

But he only moved faster up to her room and opened the door.

Sure enough, Reba was tucked under her covers, her hands pressed against her temples. She groaned and rolled over as she saw Brock open her door. He could tell she was embarrassed to be seen without makeup and tousle-hair, but didn't care. He thought she was beautiful.

"Reba, come on, can I get you some tea?"

"NO, just go away!"  
"Okay." To her surprise, he left shutting the door behind him. She would have dearly loved the tea, but didn't want him around to see her blush every time he smiled at her.

"Here you go."

She jumped. Brock was back with a glass of iced tea.

"Brock –"

"Shh." He handed her the glass. "Just drink it."  
Reba drank against her will at first, but in time began to chug it. He smiled as she let out a sigh. "That was good, thank you, Brock."  
"No problem. How about a massage?"

She was about to say no, but began to imagine the way his hands pressed into her back. She nodded before she could consider it further.

He had always been amazing at massaging, and was no less now. It seemed he had memorized every muscle, every ache in her back. Soon she was asleep, and he just watched her, fascinated by the rhythm of her breathing. She looked like a portrait of an angel, only even more beautiful.

Then a strange look crossed her face, one that was angry, scared. "What? No!" she moaned. "You…you said you'd stay, Brock, stay!"

"Shh! I'm here – Reba?" Brock murmured, rubbing her arm. Reba stirred, then rolled onto her back, facing him. Her eyes opened, and he saw a tear beginning to form at the root of her eyelashes.

"Brock?" she whispered, blinking up at him. The tear was sliding to her perfect ear. "What- did you say something?"

He hesitated. "No, you just started to stir a little…"  
Reba got what he meant by 'stir a little'. Even after she just woke up, she could blush. She became aware of the tear and quickly brushed it away.

"I'm sorry…"she murmured, looking away from his eyes. "I don't know why I all of a sudden talk in my sleep…its kind of embarrassing."  
"Reba, don't be embarrassed! I sleep talk all the time! Here, want another massage?"  
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. My headaches gone now – thanks for everything."

"No problem. Can I make you something to eat?"

"No, I'm not hungry. Thanks, though." She rolled over and stood, stretching. Brock had to look away so as not to admire her; she'd kept that hourglass figure for as long as he could remember. And she was wearing a blue shirt, one that matched her eyes.

They went downstairs and Reba began to do the breakfast dishes. In time she sat down with coffee and she and Brock silently read the newspaper, but she soon found that nothing interested her. She began to watch Brock out of the corner of her eye, and thought about bringing up what had started the headache in the first place. She'd been up all night, tossing and turning, thinking about her supposed 'crush' on Brock.

Brock studied Reba as well. If you were to look at this scene, you would have seen a man and a woman, hiding behind coffee mugs, silently staring but never making eye contact.

Brock sighed. She'd never understand, not in a million years. Every time he thought of how he'd hurt her, he had an insane urge to fall on his knees and beg forgiveness. He wanted to hold her desperately, but could only watch this image of beauty exist around him. But she was so much more than a gorgeous woman – she was kind but ruthless, crazy but perfect, strong but gentle.

His only hope was for her to get past whatever she was holding in. It would be hard to give her space, but he had to know she was happy, and holding it in was making her depressed.

"Reba," he finally broke the silence with. "Look, I don't know what your going through, or if you've got something on your mind, but I'm only too happy to listen."

"What – nothings wrong with me!" Reba said a little too quickly, faking a smile.

"Please, Reba, don't play. You've had something on your mind for too long, let it out. I'll listen," Brock put his hand on hers.

The goosebumps erupted up her arm again. Her smile had faded fast, and she couldn't for the life of her meet his eyes. Reba was nervous; she wanted to tell, but what could it do for him? And what would she tell him now – she couldn't rely on him to just drop the subject.

Finally she took a deep breath and said, "It bugs me what Cheyenne said the other day, about us flirting."  
Bugged her? What was that supposed to mean –it was on her mind? "Oh. Which part?"

Reba sighed. "Do you think we are?"  
"Well…not really, I mean, I just think she came in at the wrong time. Just because I think you're cute doesn't mean I…yeah," Brock finished, uncomfortably.

Reba chuckled. "What's so cute about me getting angry, Brock?" she lifted her eyes to his. Both of them held their breath for a moment.

"Well…" Brock's collar started to redden. "You just…maybe it's your mouth looking so much prettier than what comes out. Or your nose when you try to breathe for yelling, or how your eyes light up and flash." He was smiling just thinking about it, and Reba had to laugh.

"That's so stupid it's funny!" she giggled.

"Well, how do I look when I'm mad?" he teased.

"Oh, please! You look scared and entertaining at the same time! Your eyes do this bugging-out thing, but you flex your muscles without realizing it, and its pretty funny."

At this point Cheyenne was at the door, and popped her head in just in time to see her parents, sitting close together, holding hands.

"Funny, huh? You're cute, I'm funny."  
"Ah, but looks aren't everything!" Reba grinned.

"You two are _so_ at it again!" Cheyenne squealed. "I'll leave you alone – this is so exciting!" she was still giggling as she shut the door and was gone, leaving an uncomfortable silence between Brock and Reba. There hands slid away from each other.

"That helped a lot." Brock sighed finally.

"Yeah –wait, helped what?" Reba asked.

"Well it seemed like we were actually having fun before Cheyenne accused us of flirting again. But I guess we were."  
Reba knew that that was true; they had been flirting. She rose to put her cup in the sink, trying to avoid Brock's gaze.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to!" Reba rolled her eyes as she heard what Brock said. That wasn't fair.

"Brock, it takes two, doesn't it? That's like telling your partner in crime that you're sorry you robbed a bank."

Brock chuckled. She could always keep a sense of humor, just like she couldn't help but flirt with him.  
This is stupid, Reba thought. I divorced the man, now just because his crazy wife is gone I'm playing with his mind? Bad, Reba, very, very bad!  
She sighed and leaned over the sink. It was embarrassing that this was even happening between her and Brock.

Brock was only upset that Reba was. He didn't care if the world knew that he felt something for Reba, even if he wasn't quite sure what that was yet, but not if it made her unhappy. The look on her face was torn and ashamed; he hated to see her looking so desperate for answers.

"Reba, I know you're gonna say that we need to stop flirting but…I don't think I can," Brock stated simply.

Rebas heart skipped a beat. Those words were music to her…he couldn't stop flirting with her either.

"I don't even realize I'm doing anything," Reba admitted. "I guess I don't think I can either."

"So, where does that leave us, then?" Brock wondered aloud.  
Reba shook her head. "Right where we started, I guess. All I know is that we shouldn't start something we couldn't complete."  
"Couldn't complete?" Brock repeated, standing and walking to stand next to her. "Who says we couldn't try? Look, if we can't stop, maybe that means we shouldn't."  
Reba stared up at him, searching his eyes for a joke, maybe. But Brock looked dead serious.

"What about the kids Brock? What if they get hurt that we, you know…" she trailed off.

"If they're half as accepting as Cheyenne we have nothing to worry about," Brock chuckled, but Reba was serious.

"That's true, but…Brock I just can't – I can't see myself making the same mistake twice," she burst, turning away.

A long silence followed. Reba wished she had worded herself differently.

"Mistake?" For some reason, Brock still had something of a smile in his voice. "Is that what we were?"  
"Well, you gotta admit we didn't work," she sighed.

"Reba, that was my fault – if there was any mistake, I made it in leaving you," he said quietly.

Reba took her breath in. He'd said that before – but for some reason it made her weak now. She'd thought that the door that shouldn't have been there was locked, or even gone, until the therapist had said those words: _"If there's a door, it'll be there whether Barbara Jean is in the picture or not…"_

"It's not too late to change that, right?"  
Now was not the time to lose her head. "You don't love me, Brock."  
The silence was haunting between them. Brock didn't want to contradict her; that would just be moving too fast. He settled with, "Is that what you think, Reba? That after the divorce was signed all my feelings for you just dropped?"  
"They should have!" Reba turned and yelled. "Once someone decides to love someone else that should be the story – not loving two people at the same time!"

"So you just stopped loving me?" Brock raised his voice slightly.

"I wasn't the one who left, Brock."  
"And I want to change that, I honestly do. I want to make up for it."  
"You could have made up for it by staying out of my life!" Reba couldn't believe she was saying these things. Why did what she wanted always have to come after what was right? Why did their being together have to be wrong?

"Is that what you want – me to leave right now?" Brock yelled back.

Again Reba had to think a little bit – go with what's right, Reba, go with what's right…

"Reba?"  
"It's not about what I want or what you want," Reba couldn't look him in the eye. "The kids shouldn't be put through this anymore. I'm not the only one you hurt."

Brock looked once more at Reba, staring at her lovely face. He couldn't think of anything else to say.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Brock was opening up the door. He didn't take a look back, her face was too full of pain, as he left her kitchen.

Reba waited for two seconds before she took off and wrenched the door open. It was to her surprise that Brock had turned around and soon they were holding each other tightly.

It was so ironic – neither of them wanted him to go. They didn't say a word. Rebas arms tightened around his neck, her face buried into his shoulder, and Brock could tell she was shaking all over.

She was crying in his arms again. She had come to him, just like he had come to her. And she didn't want him to go – she didn't want it to end.

To her surprise, Reba began to go limp. She was shaking too hard- she tried to control herself, but Brock had noticed too. He scooped her up before she could do anything.

"That better?" he asked, looking into her surprised, bright eyes. She nodded, then leaned her head against Brocks chest and fainted.

When Reba awoke she was on her bed and someone's warm body was behind hers, their fingers running through her hair. She knew it was Brock, but rolled over just to make sure.

"You okay?" Brock was looking worried, but extremely happy.

Reba nodded again. She couldn't take her eyes off his face – or remember what had caused her to be in the same room with him.

It started coming back to her. She had almost let him get away that time…

She shuddered and Brock pulled her closer. He made sure he could still see her angelic face, and was glad that she had not resumed crying.

"You came back," she said quietly.

"And I'm not leaving," Brock promised.

The words sounded so real, but Reba still could not believe him. "What if you do? What'll I do when you…"  
"I won't," Brock said firmly. "And there's nothing you can do about it. I'll always fight for you."  
She smiled. That would do for now.

"Why _didn't_ you make me leave?" Brock asked suddenly.

"I couldn't help it. Barbara Jean thought we were best friends and you were just kind of around her a lot. " Reba murmured sarcastically.

"No – just downstairs." Brock chuckled.  
Reba half smiled. "I wouldn't want my latest nightmare to come true. You know when you gave me a massage to fall asleep? I dreamt that very scene almost. You left…and you didn't come back."

Now tears were starting to form in his eyes. "I love you, Reba. That's not going to change – it never has. I stayed with Barbara Jean because I thought it was the right thing after getting her pregnant – but I know better now. I know I don't have to look any farther than you, and you're right here with me."

Her heart rose higher and higher as he spoke. She tried to speak, but was afraid she'd start crying again. Brock noticed, and put a finger over her lips. Slowly removing it, he leaned in and kissed her, the first kiss they'd shared in far too long.

Later , when Reba had fallen asleep and Brock had promised over and over not to go, he heard her whispering something. Leaning toward her, he understood:  
"I love you Brock. Don't go…I love you…"

Smiling and kissing her softly next to her closed eye, it wasn't long before Brock was also asleep.

Cheyenne had tried to call Reba several times, both at home and on her cell. Starting to get worried and too busy to go check on her mother, she called Kyra and asked her to pick up Jake, then called Van.

Van answered at first ring. "Hey, honey, what's up?"  
"Hey sweetie, have you heard from Mom today?"  
"Uh, no, I haven't, have you called her?"  
Cheyenne was now very worried. "Yeah, she didn't answer anything. She had a headache this morning, but I know she was awake because I walked in on her and Dad in the kitchen flirting again…Dad!" she suddenly shrieked.

"Wait – first they were flirting, now she's not answering her phone? Think Mr. H-h-h-_arts _putting a bit of charm on her?"

"I'm gonna call him," Cheyenne, who had ignored her husband, decided. "He'll know what's up."  
"I think I do too…BOW-chicka –" but Cheyenne had hung up before he could get her to share his dirty thoughts.

Quickly she dialed Brocks home phone, then his cell, to no success. Starting to get frantic, Cheyenne told her boss where she would be and was home as fast as was humanly possible.

"Mom?" she cried, slamming the door and running up the stairs. She opened the bedroom door, and felt her heart rate start to slow back to normal. Both of them were fast asleep, facing the door. Smiling, she shut the door and giggled her way down the stairs.

Once in her car again, she called Van. "Van, you'll never guess where I found Mom and Dad!"

"I bet I can…"

"They were in bed asleep!" she cooed.

"Yeah, I could have guessed that right off the bat."

"Van, they were on top of the covers, fully clothed, _asleep. _But isn't this exciting?"

"Well, maybe for them, but it's a little messed up, isn't it?"  
"OH!" Cheyenne scoffed, still beaming, and hung up before a cop saw her on her phone.

Reba and Brock woke up when they heard Kyra and Jake walking around the house, yelling, "MOM! Where the heck are you? MOM!"  
Reba sighed, smiling at Brock. "Duty calls," she said.  
"Should we tell them?" Brock asked.

"If you think about it, there really isn't much to say. We've not decided on anything really, yet."

"Well here's what we start with: I stay and don't ever leave you alone, then take it from there."  
Reba giggled. "All right, good place to start."

The two hurried downstairs where Kyra, sitting with Jake at the table, was explaining that Reba and Brock had run away to become famous criminals.

"Don't try to scare me, Kyra!" Jake was saying shakily.

"Don't be scared – the security system should keep most people out…except the ones with guns." She said solemnly. Jake gulped, then cheered as Reba bopped Kyra on the head.

"Ouch! There you are, where were you?" Kyra frowned up at her parents, rubbing her head.

"Upstairs."

"Doing what?" Jake asked.  
"Jake, maybe when you're older-"

"KYRA!" Reba bopped her on the head again, this time with a spoon. "It was nothing like that – I…fell asleep and Brock got here and woke me up."  
"Oh. Were you in bed all day?" Kyra frowned. "Why didn't you get dressed?"  
Reba became aware of this for the first time. "Uh…really, really bad headache. It's all gone now, though. So, you two got anything else going on today?"  
"Band practice," Kyra replied, taking a bite of yogurt. "And Jake's gonna clean my room then go to the library." Jake was about to retort when Kyra leaned in and muttered, "Did you _want_ me to tell Mom where you're _really_ going afterward_s_?" and quickly shut his mouth.

"You know what, I actually have to go, my secretary said she's made some appointments made for me and I want to get ready for them," Brock announced.

Reba quickly looked up, pleadingly. She didn't want him to go. "You have to leave?" she asked quietly.

Brock nodded sadly. He didn't want to go, not at all. He motioned to Reba to follow him into the living room.

"Brock you need to be here – I want to talk the kids about us!" she said.

"I know, but I think there's a better way to do that; you tell Kyra, I tell Jake, Cheyenne and Van make up their own version," he suggested.

Reba considered that. "That's not a bad idea. And I think that Cheyenne and Van already have their own version," she chuckled.

Brock joined in. "So I promise I'll be here as soon as I leave the office – probably around six. I'll bring pizza, and you can get a head start talking to Kyra if you want."  
"Thanks, Brock, I think I will."  
They hugged and kissed just as Cheyenne opened the front door. She squealed in delight again when she saw her parents embrace and called, "VAN! Get out of the car, you don't wanna miss this!"

Brock and Reba broke apart. Brock was still chuckling as he said, "Bye Cheyenne!" and left.

"Thanks a lot," Reba stuck her tongue out at her daughter, who giggled.

"I have to know what's going on, or I'll make up an entirely different story!"

"I'd figured you'd already done that – it didn't stop you from making one up about me and the mailman!" Reba snapped.

"Mom, this is entirely different though! This is about you and_ Dad _– and its SO much more exciting! Please, please, please, PLEASE you have got to fill me in!" she begged.

"No, Cheyenne! Not right now!" she jerked her thumb behind her towards the open hatch, as if Jake and Kyra weren't staring at them, eating feverishly.

"Keep going- this is better than TV!" Jake pressed.

"Thanks a lot, Cheyenne!" Reba repeated, hissing.

Van opened the door, he was holding a giggling Elizabeth, cooing, "No, we're can't toss you in the air right now, grandma Reba might kill –" he froze as Cheyenne and Reba stood gaping at him. He laughed nervously.

"You were throwing her up in the air again? Van, last time you dropped her – if it hadn't been for Mom's flowers she could have got hurt!" Cheyenne scolded.

"Yeah, Van, and I got enough stares about my flower bed as it is after that – those flowers can't get flatter!" Reba reminding him. "The point is for them to stand tall and look pretty!"

"Oh, speaking of standing tall and looking pretty, Mr. H-h-h-_art_ is looking mighty…happy. What'd you tranquilize him with?" Van winked, setting Elizabeth carefully down to look at a picture book on the couch.

"Love!" Cheyenne cooed.

There was a long silence as Cheyenne's words were taken the wrong way by the whole family.  
"Awkward…!" Kyra sang, blinking furiously to clear her mind.

"So what happened then, Mrs. H?" Van asked.

Reba, who had gone rather red, folded her arms and said, "Cheyenne, why don't you tell your version and will go with the complete opposite."  
"Okay!" Cheyenne bubbled over to the sofa next to Elizabeth. Everyone migrated toward her, sitting around and listening keenly.

"Kids, this isn't the true story – what's coming after will be much different," Reba warned them.

"Yeah. That's why were listening to the good one before the disappointment," Jake pointed out.

"Okay, so first Mom and Dad start flirting about her being cute. Then I come home and he was sleeping next to her on her bed –fully clothed and _asleep!" _ Cheyenne added, looking at Van. "Now I walk in and they're hugging and kissing!" she finished.

Eyes moved to Reba expectantly. She was stunned; she hadn't expected Cheyenne's version to be true.

"Mom, it's your turn," Kyra reminded her.

Reba laughed nervously. "It was just told."

The silence hung lower than their jaws. No one had else expected Cheyenne's version to be true either, not even Cheyenne herself.

"So…now what's gonna happen?" Kyra finally was bold enough to ask.

"BOW chicka…" Van coughed, before Kyra, Cheyenne and Jake hit him.

"So now that Barbara Jean is out of the picture you're just taking Dad back?" Kyra asked critically.

"I wish you wouldn't say it like that, we're not jumping the gun! We're giving ourselves time so you kids can get used to it and we can be sure this is what we want to do!" Reba explained.

"Well, that sounds okay. When is he moving back in?" Van questioned.  
Reba tried to glare at him, but stopped. She tried to say something, but stopped. Finally she settled with shrugging her shoulders. "I dunno. OH CRAP!" she slapped herself in the forehead.

"Whatsamatter?" four voices asked at once.

"I wasn't supposed to tell y'all this…I was supposed to wait for Brock!" she stood and pounded her fist into her palm.

"Well, technically, Cheyenne did most of the talking," Van pointed out. "It's not her fault she told the truth for once."

Glaring at him, Cheyenne admitted, "Well it's better we all heard together, I mean, what were you gonna do? You tell Kyra, Dad tell Jake, and Van and I make up something to tell Elizabeth?"

Reba dropped her jaw, but blushed. "No!" she lied, Barbara Jean style.

Everyone gave her a sigh of disappointed meant and shook their heads.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Everyone seemed to be getting along great with the thought of Reba and Brock being a couple again. Brock hadn't popped the question, yet it was always on his mind. Whenever he cuddled with Reba and watched TV or just talked, he would take in every aspect of her, from the roots of her fiery red hair to her perfect curves. He heard her laugh and laughed along, saw her smile and wanted to kiss her. He could tell that she was happy, and it made him glow with joy as he realized that he could have that affect on her.

Reba was no less fascinated with Brock. She had remembered telling herself over and over again when they were divorced, "Don't smile just because he flexed his muscles again…don't watch him kiss Barbara Jean…don't cry because you want to kiss him…don't hug him for too long just because he needs to be comforted…". But that was all over now. She could hold him whenever she wanted, and it pleased her that he could spend hours staring at her.

They both wanted to get married again; everyone wanted to them to. Van and Cheyenne were excited with the prospect of not having to explain to Elizabeth why they** weren't** married for one thing, and Kyra and Jake just wanted a father again. Kyra wanted her autobiography to include married parents, and Jake wanted someone to throw him the football.

But no one had said anything until now.

Things were going down the right road. All was well, and Barbara Jean was even coming up to see them in three weeks with Henry. The speed was perfect for both Reba and Brock.

Kyra was doing a gig with her band, hosting a surprise slumber party at her friends basement. Van and Cheyenne had taken Jake and Elizabeth to a Seahawks game.

Reba was soon lonely, and even though she knew she and Brock shouldn't be alone really, she found herself leaving her solitude and going to his house.

She snuck in quietly through his front door. Brock was in the kitchen, reading.

On her tiptoes, Reba crept quietly behind him. He was clueless, wrapped up in the news.

She threw her hands over his eyes. He yelled, jumped, and turned around.

Reba threw her head back and leaned against the counter, laughing. Once realizing it was just his crazy girlfriend, Brock joined in and hugged her.

"You could have given me a heart attack, Reba, what are you?"

Reba caught her breath, clutching him for support. "Oh, c'mon, you're laughing! It was funny!" she giggled.

"Yeah, but…what the heck, you make me laugh." Brock admitted, kissing her neck. "Well, wanna go see a movie or something? Eaten yet?"

"I don't really wanna do anything tonight, can't we just watch TV or something? Popcorn is sounding really good at the moment," she suggested.

"Sure, c'mon." Brock agreed, and soon they were cuddling in blankets, watching_ I Love Lucy_ reruns and throwing popcorn at each other.

Somewhere in the third episode, both began to tire. It was only 5. Brock was paying more attention to a sleeping Reba than to the show.

Reba was having a good dream, a flashback dream. Brock only wondered what she was whispering about.

_Her toe was tracing into the sand, more to just provide her with something to do. She was so nervous, how could Brock look so cool and perfect? The beach, the sun, his perfect body, all were so outreaching for her. How could she have fallen for someone so amazing? She was a pale red head, and that was it. And here was this Greek god to outshine her._

_If she could read Brocks thoughts, however, she would have relaxed. All he could think about was how beautiful green looked with her hair and eyes. The summer dress she wore was a perfect fit for a perfect body – all the comments his buddies had made about her hourglass figure swarmed him now. They were right – she was his sexiest, luckiest find. But she was so much more…even without her vision of perfection, he could have loved her. But what was bugging her? She wouldn't look at him._

"_Reba, why are you so quiet today – you aren't sick are you?" Brock asked. _

_Reba jerked up. "Uh, no, I'm fine," she lied. She was sick – lovesick. If he was that perfect couldn't he tell?_

"_Are you mad at me or something?" _

_Reba just stared at him. How could she be mad at _him_? Brock, her perfect boyfriend, who never did anything wrong? Brock, Mr. Beautiful? Her temper started to get the better of her. _

"_You _aren't_ perfect, are you? I've just found your flaw – you're stupid!" she snapped, standing. _

_Gazing up at her, Brock was puzzled. "Is that what's bugging you – I'm stupid? Since when?"  
"Two seconds ago – how could I be mad at you, you're too perfect for someone to get mad at." Reba scowled, folded her arms and looked away. "Why do you have to rub it in?'_

"_You know what, you're not perfect either – you've got a temper!" Brock shot back, standing next to her. _

"_I do not!" Reba gaped at him._

"_Do, too!" _

"_SHUT UP, STUPID!" Reba yelled, and slapped him._

_A long silence followed. Reba felt her blush of anger go to a blush of pure embarrassment and shame. _

"_Um…I do, too…" she finished. "Brock, oh my God, I am so sorry – are you okay?" _

_Brock was just standing there, gaping at her. Finally he shut his mouth and lightly touched his cheek where she had slapped him._

"_That…hurt…" he said at last. Reba bit her lip._

"_Brock, I am really sorry, really – you're right, I have a terrible temper, and you're not stupid…" tears were threatening to take over. She couldn't let them. _

"_I'm stupid." It wasn't a question, it was a confirmation._

"_No, you're not! I am, please, don't listen to a word I-"_

"_Okay, I'm not stupid, not yet." Brock finally looked her in the eye and let his hand fall. He took her hands in his and held them up._

_"If I let you go now, then I'll be stupid. But…Reba, I won't. I'm not gonna let you go."  
Reba couldn't make any of this out. "What are you saying Brock?"  
"I'm saying…marry me." Again, not a question. _

Back in the real world, Reba was asleep, head on Brocks lap, whispering, "I'm stupid…I'm stupid…"

Brock frowned, then shook her lightly. "Reba, wake up!"

Reba jerked her head up. "Huh?"

"You aren't stupid," he said simply.

She gazed up at him. "That's exactly how I like to be woken up."

He laughed as she lay her head back on his shoulder. "You were saying 'I'm stupid, I'm stupid.' What was the dream about?"

Reba frowned now. "I can't really remember…I know we were on a beach…or something. When was the last time we were on the beach?"

"Sometime with BJ and the kids…but you were always calling me stupid then."  
"Calling you…that's it – that's what it was!" Reba yelled. "It was the day I told you that you were stupid and you called me bad tempered – you remember?"

"Remember, how could I forget? That's the day I proposed!" Brock reminded her.

"…Oh." Reba replied after an awkward silence. "That's what happened."

"Do you really remember it so well?" he asked curiously, wondering if he should be so happy that Reba was blushing.

"I guess so…you forget that you have memories, I suppose. But it was crazy – we were crazy."  
"Were?" Brock cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay, so we've always been crazy," she admitted. "What's your point?"  
"Reba," Brock said suddenly. "Do you believe in history repeating itself?"

"Uh, sure?" she answered uncertainly.

"Then c'mon!" he pulled her to her feet and out the door, grabbing his keys.

"Where are we going?" Reba asked, laughing as he dragged her outside to the car.

"You'll see, honey, you'll see!"

Reba shook her head, amused. "Brock you're crazy," she chuckled, and kissed his cheek as she climbed through the car door he was opening for her.

Reba turned on the radio. She was pleased to hear a favorite, "My Best Friend". Tim McGraw could really describe her and Brock.

She was so wrapped up in singing the song that she didn't realize the route Brock was taking. Brock barely took notice – he loved listening to Reba sing. He knew she'd had chances to drop everything and sing for a living, but she had stayed. Another way he'd hurt her, and lousily paid her back. But he was going to change this for good – he would make every memory, good or bad, worthwhile. Or at least try.

The car stopped. Brock quickly got out, running to open Rebas door. He took her hand and pointed out towards the waves crashing in the melting glow of the horizon, sinking into a stretching blue sheet of rippiling diamonds.

He looked back at her momentarily before they took off to the sand. Reba was taken aback but thrilled – she didn't like going to the busy beaches, but this one was empty but for them. She was glowing in a way Brock loved and never forgot – ever. Not even when he'd come here alone. Because when he saw golden shining off of blue, he saw the sun glowing off of Rebas eyes. Just like they were now.

And that smile…that smile was the beach, wrapped around with waves that swarmed with love and freedom and strength. Beauty in the essence of wonder to exhilarate the mind and soul. It was beyond perfect; you can describe perfect, but not happiness.

They were laughing the whole way down to where their toes sunk into the sand. Both had luckily forgotten shoes, so they didn't need to carry them around. They held hands and stopped at the same time just where the water met their feet, panting and laughing.

Brock looked away from the waves to stare at Reba again. She was wearing green, just like she had the day he proposed the first time.

Reba closed her eyes, still smiling, then turned to open her eyes to Brock. "Good idea. It's more beautiful than it's ever been."

"Really? I think it's been like this once before…that dream you just had, was it this nice then?"

She nodded. "But it wasn't real."

"Just a memory. So this weather seems to be telling us that its time."

Her breathing stopped. Could this be happening…again…now?

"…Marry me." Again, not a question.

The salt and the wind had nothing to do with the tears that began to flow. All she could do was nod, all her mouth wanted to do was kiss Brock. And she did, and held him close.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Two months later Reba and Brock were married. It hadn't been a big wedding – just her family and Barbara Jean in a secluded chapel. A weekend-honeymoon later they were back home, and things were in full swing.

A month later when Brock, Cheyenne and Van were at work and Kyra at the library (I probably should have mentioned this but Kyra is doing college by correspondence so she can keep up with the band), Barbara Jean popped in unexpectedly.

To her surprise, Reba was not in the kitchen. "Reba?" she called.

"I'm up in my room!"

"Oh, okey-dokey-smokey!" Barbara Jean sang and hurried up the stairs. Throwing open Rebas door, she began:

"Sorry Reba, I'm just so bored! Henry's with an old friend from his old preschool and – Reba?" she stopped in her tracks when she saw wet marks staining Rebas cheeks.

But these weren't miserable, unhappy tears – these were…glad. Reba was smiling, her knees pulled up to her chin, crying.

"Reba?" Barbara Jean repeated.

"Hi," Reba finally breathed.

"Oh…hi…Reba, why are you crying?"

Reba just shook her head, still smiling while tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm not…I'm leaking."

Barbara Jean paused, then nodded as though she had just worked very hard to understand. "Oh, I get it." Then she frowned and asked, "Than why are you leaking?"

"Because…" Reba slowly got up, nervously twisting her hands around and around. She looked into her best friends eyes. "Look, I wanted to tell Brock first, but I just can't hold it in…I'm pregnant. Barbara Jean, Brock and I are gonna have a baby!"

Barbara Jean was the one standing in silence for once while Reba grabbed her around the middle in a teary hug. Then she screamed and started jumping up and down, holding a winded Reba.

It was perfect timing for Van to get home with a sickly Elizabeth. While trying to comfort her, he heard thumping and squeals from Rebas room.

"C'mon, let's go see what your crazy grandmas are up to now…" Van murmured, opening the door. "Mrs. H? Barbara Jean, we have a child here, and she's feeling sickly!"

"YEAH BUT WE'RE GONNA HAVE ANOTHER ONE – REBA'S PREGNANT!" Barbara Jean screamed. Reba immediately stopped screaming and crying and hit her.

"What?" Barbara Jean asked innocently, still beaming.

"I didn't want him to be the first man to know – after Brock couldn't be the first person he was supposed to at least be the first_ man_!" Reba explained.

"Oh…sorry." Barbara Jean didn't look very sorry.

"Van?" Reba frowned. Van was just standing there, holding Elizabeth, gaping.

"Wow…this…wow…you…I mean…wow…you…wow." Van stuttered. Reba and Barbara Jean tried to follow his nonsense, but in the end Vans lower lip began to tremble and he had to leave.

"He could have just said congratulations!" Barbara Jean rolled her eyes.

"I think he was trying to stick to words with one syllable," Reba said sarcastically. "Okay, Barbara Jean – you've had your fun, now I get to tell everyone else!" she ordered, waving her finger.

"Of course!" Barbara Jean promised nervously.

"…you're gonna end up bursting it out, aren't you?"  
She made her lying face. "…NO!" she scoffed.

"Mom, is it true?" Cheyenne squealed.

"If you mean what I think you mean, yes." Reba said, smiling.

"OH MY GOSH!!" her daughter ran to her and hugged her. Obviously she had been told by either Van, Jake or Kyra, each of which had heard it from BJ. BJ wasn't over right now, since she had gone to pick up Henry. Brock would be home soon, and Reba was starting to feel very nervous. Everyone had received strict orders not to breathe a word to Brock, which meant they would all be avoiding him. She hoped he would be pleased – she herself was brimming with joy at the prospect.

The front door was heard opening from the kitchen. Everyone froze.

"I'm home!" Brock called.

There was a pause, then Van, Cheyenne, Kyra and Jake all said, "BYE!" before running out the backdoor.

Reba just stood, frozen and nervous. Every method she had thought up to tell him with was swept from her mind. She tried breathing in and out very slowly so as not to hyperventilate, and it worked. But it didn't help her think clearer.

"Hey, honey," Brock beamed as he walked up and kissed her. "Where is everybody?"

Reba focused her frozen smile on a point across the room. "I dunno," she shrugged.

"Um, okay. Well, I've brought us some wine to have with-"

"NO, NO, NO!" Cheyenne cried as she flung the backdoor open. The rest of the family fell left-ear sided first into the kitchen. Disregarding this, Cheyenne continued, "No, hmm-mm, Mom cannot have any wine! And if you bought any beer, that's out of the question too."  
"Wait…you don't mean…?" Brock suddenly started nodding, smiling. "Okay, Cheyenne. Look, you're mother_ is not _an addict."

"Well, DUH, she's not an addict! She's –" Cheyenne broke off after a look at her mother. She started to say something, but merely cleared her throat and turned away, instructing, "Okay, everybody back outside.."

Once they were alone again, Brock asked, "Okay, what was that about – what is going on here, Reba?"

Reba looked up at him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them saying, "Brock. I'm pregnant."

For a moment he stared down at her, gaping. Then the corners of his mouth turned up slowly. "Really…pregnant? As in…we're going to have…" Reba nodded, feeling the tears coming on again.

"YES!" Brock yelled and hugged her tight. She sighed in relief as she held him. He wants to have this baby, he's happy! She thought in relief.

The next few months were spent caring for Reba. For once, she was the one asking for favors and they were the ones asking if she needed anything. All was going great – the baby was kicking like mad, and after an ultra sound Jake was told that he would have another sister. He got over the disappointment by deciding it was time to show how to boss a girl around.

One day after Reba got up from a nap she walked in on Cheyenne sitting on the couch, deep in thought. Usually thinking hard wasn't one of Cheyenne's usual past times.

"Cheyenne, are you all right? You look worried," Reba questioned.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" Cheyenne tried, smiling. It wasn't in her nature to decline something being wrong, either. Usually if Cheyenne was unhappy, everyone needed to know about it.

"Cheyenne, you are a horrible liar. Now that I've gotten that said, what's on your mind?' she sat next to her on the couch.

Her daughter sighed. Reba prepared herself to explain something very long winded and complex.

"Mom, I'm just wondering…is this going to be hard for you? I mean, you're 43. When you're baby's seventeen you'll be sixty. I'm not calling you over the hill, because you're not. Anyone looking at you would think that you're my older sister, seriously! But…how do you do it?"

Reba relaxed. This wasn't complex at all. "I just love it, Cheyenne. I love children, I love my life. It's crazy and messed up and beautiful, and that makes it seem not only worthwhile, but natural."

"Wow…" Cheyenne breathed. "Thanks…it's been worrying me that-"

But she stopped when she noticed Reba suddenly clutch her stomach. She leaned in and asked loudly, "Mom, what's wrong?"

A few moments later Reba was sitting up, perfectly fine. "It's okay, Cheyenne – she woke me up earlier, just pains."

These pain came to Reba three times in that day. Cheyenne kept an eye on her and dropped a hint or two, but nothing seemed to be wrong.

"BROCK! SOMETHINGS WRONG!"

Brock jerked awake. Reba was sitting up, shaking the entire bed. He turned on the light.

Blood was everywhere. Reba was sweating, a look of great pain on her face. Within two seconds she passed out in agony.

"Reba!" he cried, looking around for help. Right on cue, Cheyenne burst in.

"Mom, what – oh my God, Dad, I'm calling 911!"  
"Mr. H – whoa, what – Reba?"

"Mom!"  
"Dad –"

Screaming.

Panic.

And just when things were going so well.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Okay folks...last chapter! I want to say thank you for all the reviews - for my first fan fiction you've all been so supportive! I'm working on another Reba story - coming soon! Thanks again!

Chapter Eight

Everyone sat downstairs. A gray cloud hung around the outside and inside of the house, filling them all with grief. It was like they'd lost a best friend.

A car pulled into the drive.. They're attention turned to the door as Brock slowly opened the door. He had been crying.

Cheyenne stood and approached her father. "How is she?" she murmured.

Brock shook his head. "She's stopped crying. She won't let me look at her face or even respond when I say something."

Cheyenne hugged him tight. "Mom's strong, she'll pull through this. I know she will."  
"I do, too, it's just…" Brock shook his head again as they broke apart and looked around at his family. "She really didn't want to lose this child. She thought it would be like starting over…but instead it's a bad start."

"You can try again," Cheyenne pointed out.

Brock looked down, and then sat. Still not looking up he said, "I wasn't sure how to tell you guys this, but I might as well now." He looked up and sighed. "They had to tie her. She's not going to be able to have anymore children – they said that if she even got pregnant it could kill her."  
The silence was worse than before. Everyone knew that Reba wanted a child badly, had been so excited, and now…this.

Kyra, who was actually crying hardest, got up and hugged her father. Cheyenne joined then Jake and Van.

Barbara Jean burst in, tears rolling down her cheeks. Once seeing the group, she began to cry harder and joined in.

The moment was broke by the phone. Barbara Jean screamed.

"I got it," Cheyenne , who seemed most controlled, pressed talk and held the phone to her ear. "Hello? Um, this is his daughter, I can talk…she can? That's great, it really is what she wants then... Okay, we'll be down soon…Yes, thank you very much." She hung up and said, "That was the nurse – Mom can come home, and she's apparently eager to."  
Barbara Jean jumped up. "Can we all go?"  
"No, I'll get her. Everyone else, hide in the kitchen," Brock ordered. "She probably isn't ready to see everyone yet." He was gone, then back in two seconds. "Oh, can someone get her bed ready?"

Reba hated having to let Brock push her in a wheelchair– she wanted to walk. The last thing she needed was more people staring at her, but Brock was quick enough as they left so that not many people got a good look at her.

She didn't talk the whole way home, and Brock didn't make her. They drove in silence for awhile, Reba trying to stay awake. Not being able to take it anymore, she turned on the radio.

"…she's got my nose; she's got her mama's eyes…" George Strait 's song played. Click.

"…oh man, we were livin'…goin' crazy in the kitchen…" Jason Aldean. Click. No more radio.

When they pulled in the drive, the family inside looked at each other nervously.

"Let's go hide in the kitchen," Cheyenne sighed. They followed her in. Nobody was really very hungry, but they pulled down some snacks and pop to occupy themselves with.

They could hear Brock thumping up the stairs, and assumed that Reba was obviously not ready to walk yet and that he was carrying her.

"Poor Mom," Jake spoke sadly. "Wouldn't it have been cool to have another baby? Mom was gonna name her Katarina. "  
"Yeah, even though Auntie Katarina would have been younger than her niece," Van shrugged.

"That_ doesn't_ matter," Kyra said, feeling tempted enough to roll her eyes for the first time all day.

"No, it doesn't," Barbara Jean, who was eating ice cream from the bucket, agreed. "But I wish Reba could have another child – it's ridiculous that Reba AND Brock each had to-"

Barbara Jean cut off as she and the rest of the family heard Brock coming through the living room. They looked expectantly at him as he joined them.

Brock smiled at their anxious faces. "Not a word," he ordered quietly.

They looked at each other, confused. "What?"  
Then they heard a scuffing of footsteps across the living room carpet. They looked at him, horrified.

"You let her -!" Cheyenne began, her voice rising just about a two-inch volume.

"Not a word." Brock repeated.

Reba was in the kitchen now. She looked broken, exhausted, but determined.  
They thought she was going for the coffee, but she merely pulled a spoon out of the drawer, all this very slowly, and went towards Barbara Jean.

Barbara Jean, who was watching her most scared of all, tried to smile. "H-hey...!" she started to say before Reba clamped a hand over her mouth, took the tub of ice cream, and sat down. She shoveled the mint chocolate chip ice cream into her mouth, and looked up to see her family watching her like she was a time bomb.

"Y'all can talk!" she said loudly, making them jump.

"OH THANK GOD REBA I AM SO SORRY FOR YOU!" Barbara Jean burst.

"Thanks," Reba said, digging into the ice cream again.

"Are you feeling okay?" Cheyenne asked. Reba nodded, stuffing more ice cream into her mouth.

"You're eating fine," Jake murmured enviously, watching the ice cream disappear.

"Look, I said y'all can talk, just you don't have to talk to me!" Reba snapped.

Silence. Reba sighed, ashamed of herself.. Even through her anger, frustration, and broken pieces of hope lying in her heart, she knew she should be more understanding. They were desperately worried about her.

"I'm okay, I'll be fine. You'll see," she smiled sadly at them. "Just keep buying me ice cream."

"God…why us?" Cheyenne wondered aloud.

"What?" Reba put down her ice cream, staring at her daughter.

"That's it, why us, what did we do? And why does it always happen to you – Mom, think about it, just when you're your happiest, something smacks down and you get hurt again!"

Reba thought about this as everyone took in Cheyenne's words. Finally she said, "…yes, Cheyenne…but no. You're right – bad things see me and jump me, but…where would I be without them?"

"What do you mean?" Kyra frowned.

"Listen…" Reba sighed and leaned on her elbow. "If Brock had never left me, would I be this close to Barbara Jean?"

"That's all of a sudden a good thing?" Kyra raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. And, if Cheyenne and Van hadn't gotten pregnant, then look at the life I would have missed with them and Elizabeth. And if I hadn't lost this child…" she paused. Now everyone was leaning in an extra six inches, trying to comprehend.

"Well?" Barbara Jean pressed.

"I don't know…but there's a reason." Reba decided. "There's a reason for this, and as much as I hate to say it, just like everything else, it may just become a bad memory with a good cause.

Does that make sense?"

Van nodded. "Wow, Mrs. H, you're the only person I know that could sit there eating ice cream and philosophize."  
Cheyenne, who hadn't spoken, finally took a deep breath. "You really wanted that child, Mom, but look at you. You're really pulled together."

"Look at what I still have," Reba pointed out. "Believe me, if you guys weren't here, there's no way I'd be able to look at it this way."  
Barbara Jean began to sob again and hurried to squeeze her tight.

"Barbar... JEAN…oKAY..uh…still BREAKable.." Reba panted through shakes from Barbara Jean.

"No you're not!" BJ denied. "You're perfect…" she broke down again. Reba glared at her family from behind BJ's arm, mouthing "GET HER OFF!"  
"Okay, okay, Barbara Jean," Kyra sighed, pulling her away, and instantly regretting it. BJ merely buried her face in Kyra's hair and sobbed harder.

"Okay, everyone should go to bed, it's late," Brock sighed, pulling Kyra from Barbara Jeans clutches. They all hugged Reba lightly (BJ was held back by Van) and went upstairs. Barbara Jean had Henry in Jake's room and was sleeping on a couch in Kyra's room.

Brock and Reba, arms around each others backs, were last upstairs.

As Brock watched Reba sleep that night, he kept going over everything she had said. All in all, everything _had_ made her stronger. But somehow he had stayed with her, and somehow he was here for her. Just like he had always wanted to be, always would want to be, and always would be.

Reba began to stir. He leaned in, just in case she would wake up. But instead she merely whispered, "It's okay…I love you Brock…"

That's when it sunk in for Brock, why this just might have happened. He loved Reba more than anything, but never quite understood what it felt like to be her. To lose something you knew you couldn't live without…but use what you could to pull yourself through. No matter what life threw at them it would work.

Kissing the pale face of his love through her soft red hair, he lay his head down, kept his arms around her, and fell asleep listening to her breathe.

During a few moments of being awake, Reba heard Brock murmur, "Always and forever…" and smiled peacefully as she guessed what he was dreaming about.


End file.
